Pickles
by Poohdog
Summary: Over the course of the day, the NCIS team comes to discover that Abby is most likely expecting. The question is, does she know? One-shot. Minor McAbby.


**If you recognize it, it's not mine. Plain and simple fact. *sigh***

His eyes moved across her body from head to foot, taking in the strange image of the girl in front of him. It wasn't that he wasn't used to the black or the skirts or the stockings that went up to her knees. It was the fact that she had both come down to autopsy in person and that she had done so without her shoes. "Blood sample, Ducky?" she asked cheerfully, the toes of her right foot curling on the floor. He turned away from her.

"Yes, yes, I've got it right here Abigail. I could have sent Mr. Palmer down with it you know," he reminded her again as he picked up the vial and handed it to her. She grinned at him as her hand closed around the glass.

"I know he could have," she replied as Jimmy continued his inspection of the body without really moving, as if he were really trying to look anywhere but at the forensic scientist. "What have you got so far?" she asked curiously, walking toward the table. Ducky followed her, opening his mouth to answer when suddenly her face went green and she turned around rapidly, bending forward and puking into a nearby waste collector. Jimmy looked up at her startled.

"Abigail, are you all right?" Ducky questioned, coming closer to her. It wasn't like Abigail to be disgusted to the point of throwing up when encountering a body. She pulled her head up, looking disturbed by her own reaction.

"I'm good Ducky. It was just the smell," she explained, slightly less chipper than before but still not seeming entirely thrown. "Tell Gibbs I'll get the results in a couple hours if he comes down here first." She wrinkled her nose. "I think I'm going to go brush my teeth right now though," she decided, moving her tongue out of her mouth for a moment, her nose still wrinkled with distaste.

"Abigail," Ducky began. She turned around and Jimmy quickly looked down as if to pretend he hadn't been studying her closely when she wasn't looking. "Are you sure you're all right?"

"I'm serious, Ducky, it was the smell. I'm just feeling really sensitive to scents the past couple of days," she explained. "I almost kissed the oven yesterday after I made one of those tubes of cinnamon rolls." She frowned. "And when Tony dropped that jar of pickles he was storing in my cooler yesterday, I had to leave the room until it was cleaned up, it smelled so bad. Which was a problem because Major Mass Spec was almost done processing at the time. Luckily I got back to interpret the results on Gibbs time scale."

"Almost got yourself into a pickle there then," Jimmy said, a large smile on his face, chuckling lightly, still looking up, the body seemingly forgotten. Abigail and Ducky both looked at him un-amused and he swallowed his laughter quickly. "Sorry," he mumbled. Abigail rolled her eyes and said good-bye before leaving autopsy. Ducky looked back at his assistant and the body.

"What's going on with Abby?" Jimmy asked checking that the door was securely closed before he spoke.

"Did you know Mr. Palmer," Ducky started, returning to the body, "that among Eastern Fox Squirrels, males compete to create a hierarchy before a female goes into estrus with those at the top of the hierarchy getting first priority at mating with the female in question?"

"No, I can't say that I did," Jimmy answered him, looking somewhat amused again.

"Mmm, well whether you knew about it or not, the basic application is the same. Your chance at sharing your genetic material with Abigail is null because another male stepped up before you. At least, that is the best theory I can come up with at the moment," he replied. "Scalpel." He pretended not to notice Jimmy's staring as he tried to comprehend what Ducky had just said.

* * *

"Abby," Gibbs began walking into the room, holding a caf-pow in his hand. She was grinning as he walked in. "What have you got for me?" he asked, knowing that look perfectly well. He had come at just the right time.

"I've got the victim's name," she said happily and then turned back to the computer, pulling up an image. "Ensign Rick O'Donnell." She turned back to him, her eyes looking smug. Gibbs looked at the screen which bore his address and the ship he was serving on.

"Well done Abby," Gibbs replied, leaning forward and kissing her on the cheek, setting the caf-pow down beside her.

"Thanks Gibbs," looking up at him. He saw tears at the edges of her eyes.

"Abby, what's wrong?" he asked her worriedly.

"Nothing," she said, her voice sounding normal as she quickly pushed the tears away with her arm. "I'm fine. Just-" she paused. "Thanks Gibbs," she repeated and reached out to hug him. He hugged her back, not quite sure what to think of this strange behavior but when he pulled away the tears were gone from her eyes and she was grinning. Even he was a little caught of guard, but he left the lab anyway. What caught him off-guard more was when he returned three hours later and he found the caf-pow in the exact same place. He picked it up and found there was nothing drunk from it.

"Do I have something on my face?" she asked him, looking concerned.

"No," he answered shaking his head. "Why'd you call me down here?"

"Then why are you staring at me?" Abby questioned.

"Abby, focus," Gibbs replied. She sighed and went on with her report but the idea had struck him and wouldn't go away. He glanced back at his forensic scientist and wondered.

* * *

From the moment she was born, Ziva had hated waiting. And sitting around upstairs wasn't doing her any good. Gibbs had sent Tony and McGee out to a different address and the two boys hadn't come back yet. There was nothing she could do until they were back. So she had resorted to pacing Abby's lab as Abby stared into a microscope. "Anything?" she asked as Abby pulled herself away.

"It's one of the objective lenses that's dirty, not the eyepiece," she replied, pulling a green box full of lens wipes towards her.

"Aren't you looking for anything?"

"My army's working on its own right now," she answered, wiping at one of the zooming lenses with a wipe. "There's nothing to do but wait," she added, dropping the wipe down beside her. She pressed her eye to the microscope again peering into it. "Much better," she decided and tossed the lens wipe away while turning to look at Ziva. "Why are you so worried?" she asked in confusion. "They called. The only reason they're running late is because they ran into road construction." She leaned forward to look over the panel on another machine.

"I would like to have this finished before Friday night," Ziva answered.

"Is he cute?" Abby asked, a grin on her face as she turned to look at Ziva again.

"Is who cute?"

"Ziva!" Abby implored. "Whoever it is you have a date with on Friday night."

"I suppose so," she agreed with a shrug. Abby grinned and plopped into one of her wheelie chairs, yanking the straw out of a caf-pow and putting it into a bottle of juice as she skidded over.

"Tell me," she demanded, taking a sip out of the straw, her eyes on Ziva.

"There's nothing to tell."

"You can at least tell me how he looks. I'm bored stiff here and so are you," Abby pleaded. "And I'll tell Tony in a way that will make him jealous," she added.

"I don't need Tony to be jealous," Ziva retorted, glancing away. She looked back a moment later. There was definitely something strange about Abby. "You're happy about something?" Ziva asked her.

"Sure," Abby agreed. "Why?"

"You're," Ziva paused, trying to think of a way to phrase it, "lighted up," she decided. Abby blinked and looked at her curiously. Somewhere in the lab, one of the machines beeped. Abby got up and headed in its direction, bringing her juice with her.

"Abby have you got-"

"Negative Gibbs," Abby interrupted, her tone disappointed as she looked over at him.

"Good," he answered.

"What?" both Ziva and Abby asked at the same time.

"I'll explain on the way. Ziva come with me," he said as the elevator rang out that it had arrived on the floor and McGee entered, carrying a box of evidence. Tony was right behind him. "McGee, you stay down here and help Abby. Dinozzo," he began.

"Yeah boss?" he asked dropping down another box on the lab table. Abby was already unpacking the first one with gloves on, McGee beside her as she pulled out the large bag holding the laptop. She elbowed him in the side slightly and held up her hands, looking down at his pointedly.

"You're with us," Gibbs finished. He looked over at Abby again, his eyes catching on the caf-pow she had left next to one of the members of her army. "You're still on the same one?" he asked her, glancing across the room.

"I just haven't wanted it as much lately," she answered distractedly as McGee came up beside her again, pulling on the pair of gloves he had forgotten. "Haven't been in the mood for it. Probably not a bad thing to have less caffeine." Gibbs nodded and then started toward the elevator.

"Ziva," he called behind him and she stopped staring over at Abby in confusion and hurried to the elevator with Tony and Gibbs, the doors closing just after she entered. "It's called glowing," Gibbs told her as they began to head upwards.

"You noticed?" she asked, turning so that she was facing away from Tony, seeing only Gibbs in front of her.

"Yes."

"And the not wanting as many caf-pows."

"Yes."

"Do you think she's-"

"So does Ducky."

"What?" Tony interrupted. They both looked over at him as the elevator beeped again. "What are you talking about?" he rephrased, looking between the two of them.

"Figure it out Dinozzo," Gibbs commanded leading the way out of the elevator with one very confused Tony following behind.

* * *

"Wait, so you were talking about Abby?" Tony asked sitting in the car, his hands twitching for something to grab as they always did when he found himself in the car with Gibbs. He got no response except for Ziva raising one eyebrow from the backseat. He took this to mean a yes. "Because she's drinking less caffeine?" he attempted, his hand tightening on the door handle as Gibbs took off down the road. Perhaps if he thought about something else he wouldn't find himself terrified of being thrown through the windshield. Still, no answer. "She's tried dropping caffeine before."

"Never over the course of three weeks," Gibbs replied. "She hasn't been drinking as many caf-pows for a while now. I didn't notice until today."

"And she wasn't glowing before I would imagine," Ziva added, testing out the word.

"She said it would make her healthier," Tony reminded them, wincing as a car honked after being cut-off. "Back when she tried it before. Maybe it's finally taking effect."

"Ducky said she's been sensitive to smells," Gibbs said gruffly.

"Oh, yeah, she yelled at me yesterday when I broke my jar of pickles in her lab," Tony added in eagerly, glad that he could understand part of this conversation again.

"I thought they were supposed to like pickles," Ziva inquired, leaning slightly forward in the backseat, confusion painted on her face.

"That's only a cliché," Gibbs replied, turning the steering wheel sharply to get around another car that also blared its horn loudly in response. "And why did you have pickles in Abby's lab, Dinozzo?"

"Motzelli's forgets to put them on their sandwiches half the time. Abby said I could keep them in her refrigerator down there. It was either that or autopsy."

"Does Jimmy know as well?" Ziva asked, still leaning forward.

"Yeah. Ducky basically told him," Gibbs answered.

"You know boss, if this has helped Abby so much, I wonder what would happen to you if you tried it," Tony suggested. His helpful reply was greeted by laughter in both the front and backseat and Tony frowned. He had missed something. For a while he drew quiet, gripping on to the door and trying to think of why Ziva and Gibbs were so fascinated by Abby's lowered caffeine intake. They were pulling into the drive when it hit him.

"Abby's pregnant?" he asked sharply, his eyes going wide.

"Yeah Dinozzo. That's what we're guessing," Gibbs replied tiredly as he stopped the car sharply and shifted it into park. Ziva was halfway out the door already. Still feeling unsettled, he unclipped his seatbelt and opened the door.

"Does she know?" he asked. "Wouldn't she have told us if she did?" Both Ziva and Gibbs paused for a moment, seeming just as baffled by the question as they did. "Shouldn't somebody tell her?" he questioned.

* * *

He watched, his eyes narrowed as the cards began to fan themselves out again on the screen. Abby rolled her eyes as she pulled her chair up next to him, taking a slurp of the juice she had talked him into getting her from a vending machine ten minutes ago. "That five could go on that six," she said, pointing with one hand, holding the bottle with the other. "And that ten with that jack."

"I know, Abby," he argued. "I have a strategy." McGee continued to click through the cards in the deck with Abby on his left. He reached out under the desk and rested his left hand on her leg. Then he shuffled some of the cards in the stacks on the screen.

"Ha, you did move that five," she pointed out smugly. Tim sighed, pulling his hand back to rest it on the table. Behind him, he heard the distinct ring of the elevator but ignored it as background noise. "There's that six and seven."

"Abby!" McGee sighed.

"Face it, Timmy, you're not going to beat my score," Abby replied. "You might as well accept a little help and yes I know you're there Gibbs," Abby added before turning around and glancing at Gibbs. She frowned when she saw both Ziva and Tony following him. McGee glanced at her and then turned around as well. "Something wrong?" she asked, looking between them. "I thought you got the guy."

"Tony wanted to tell you something," Ziva spoke up.

"What, hey, why me?" Tony protested looking back at both Gibbs and Ziva.

"You were the one who suggested that someone should tell her," Ziva replied, a little too gently. Tony grumbled as McGee turned back toward the computer, his eyes fixed in a frown that had nothing to do with the solitaire game. He couldn't help but wonder what they were up to.

"Abby," Tony began. "Abby," he repeated. "Abby,"

"I do know my name Tony," she replied, raising her eyebrows.

"Right, well, Abby, I- we all, the group of us minus McGee or maybe not minus McGee, I don't know, think that there might a possibility that you're, uh, pregnant." For a moment the room was silent and Tim's frown went away as he fully returned to the solitaire game, beginning a new game in order to restart his score.

"Yeah?" Abby asked, waiting for more.

"About eight weeks," McGee added, frowning at the cards again.

"That- I thought- I mean we thought-"

"Tony, it wasn't entirely unplanned. I did notice when I didn't start bleeding four weeks ago and I stopped craving caf-pows," she replied slowly.

"It wasn't- you intended to have a mini-McGeek growing inside you?" Tony asked. "Or is it McGee's because- ow!" he yelped after a tell-tale slapping noise. McGee turned away from his game and smirked at Tony, opening his mouth to retort. Instead he found himself repeating Tony's last statement as Gibbs hit the back of his head as well. Abby snorted.

"Congratulations Abby," Gibbs said, smiling at her. He glanced at McGee who was glaring at Tony. "And best of luck."

**Right, so as I've acquired an obsession with NCIS, I somehow ended up writing a fanfic for it (basically the reason I've ended up with so many Harry Potter's…) Kind of random. Anyway, let me know what you think!**


End file.
